Brush with Life
by Six-string Samurai
Summary: Kim and Ron discover that all is not right with their relationship, and the red string of fate begins to pull them apart. Different shade of Kigo.
1. Chapter 1

Kim Possible belongs to Disney. This is a work for fun, not profit. A Fan fiction by Six-string Samurai.

**Brush with Life**

"_It's not my fault! It's not…you saw, right? Ron? Ron…Ron!"_

Kim Possible, teen hero and all around American girl, was not having a good night. First, her date had been a wash from the beginning, when the Italian restaurant had lost the reservations she'd made a week in advance, resulting in the fall back plan of trying out a new Chinese place she'd heard about around campus. The prices had been pretty affordable, but the cook staff was decidedly not authentic, or even Asian for that matter.

No big deal at first, until the food arrived after a thirty minute wait and lukewarm. She'd been willing to overlook it, except for the fact that her boyfriend decided to take issue with the staff over the Hunan Chicken he ordered. A stray hair or three was definitely not on the item description in the menu.

This resulted in the two of them deciding to head back home and pick up some cheap take-out on the way. They'd planned on checking out a movie premier, but with an earlier blizzard advisory, and a few flakes of snow already drifting down when they walked out to the car from the restaurant, curling up on the couch sounded like a really good idea.

After swinging by the Bueno Nacho drive-thru, they'd headed home just as the snow really started coming down. Since she was driving, Kim wanted to get out of the weather before it got too much worse, and had ended up arguing with Ron about whether or not to just take the main roads, which would be clearer than the route she usually favored. In the end, she'd badgered her boyfriend into agreeing that hers was the better idea.

As he'd feared, by the time they got onto the back road that cut around the residential area, the road was covered with a good few inches of snow, forcing Kim to drive a lot slower than she would have liked. This, in the end, is probably what saved her from losing complete control of the car when a blur cut across her headlights and she mashed the breaks.

Unfortunately, there was a heavy crunch, as the front brakes locked up and the car continued to slide on the slick road, plowing through what Kim prayed wasn't a person. Skidding, she barely managed to steer the car off to the side of the road, narrowly avoiding folding her car around a phone pole by mere feet.

Kim leaned forward, reaching up to rub the side of her neck, it felt like she'd wrenched it something awful. Turning her head, she checked the side view mirror, but couldn't see what she'd hit, not with the snow still falling as it was. It had happened too fast to be sure, but surely it hadn't been a person. God, what was she going to do if it was. This whole thing was a mess. The airbags hadn't deployed, so she'd whacked her forehead something fierce on the steering wheel, there were still purplish spots dotting the edges of her vision. Ron, ron was…she looked over to the passenger seat.

The blond was slumped sideways, nearly resting against the door if it hadn't been for his seatbelt holding him up at an awkward angle. For a moment Kim's heart caught in her throat, but then she caught the rise and fall of his chest. Past his head, the side window was cracked and a faint smear of red drew the focus of her clouded vision. Tentatively she reached over to tug at his sleeve, then shake his shoulder, "Ron, wake up. I need you to get up." She grabbed a fistful of his jacket, tugging harder at her insensate boyfriend. "Ron!"

With a great gasp of breath, Ronald Stoppable surged awake, eyes wild for just a moment, until he caught sight of who was grabbing at him. "KP! W-what…what hit me? Feels like my brain's leaking out."

"Don't say that!" Kim swatted at his arm, which was still curled protectively around two bags of Bueno Nacho. "Turn, turn this way and let me get a look at your head, I'm surprised the window is still intact."

"Huh," his expression was still confused, but he did as she asked, and canted his head to the side so she could get at it. "Did we hit something?"

Gingerly picking through his blood-matted hair, she ended up having to turn on the dome light to find the injury. Luckily, the tear in his scalp was small, and only looked serious due to the first surge of blood, the wound was already starting to staunch on its own.

"How bad is it?"

"You've had worse. But, I think the taco's have seen better days," Kim pointed down to the stain slowly spreading across the side of one of the bags.

"Ah, man, I think I crushed a couple of burritos," Ron frowned, opening the bag to inspect the damage as cautiously as Kim had been with his own wound.

"Don't worry about the food; I want to check on whatever it was we hit back there."

Ron gave the bags one last sad look, and nodded. "Sure thing," and moved to unbuckle his belt, fingers pausing at the latch.

"Ron? What's the matter?"

"I don't know, I just got this weird vibe, like I'm forgetting something, or," he grimaced, "or like a warning."

"Monkey powers?"

He shook his head, trying to clear it but just made himself lightheaded instead. "I can't tell. It's sorta like that but all googly."

"Googly?" It was Kim's turn to frown, hoping Ron didn't have a concussion from the impact.

"I-I'm sorry, I can't tell, but it's gone now," the blond rubbed absently at the non-injured side of his head. "Probably just a headache from not eating anything since lunch and it's already, what," he glanced at the clock on the dash, "Uh, nine forty. Man, I still can't believe they canceled our reservations."

Kim unlatched his buckle when he got sidetracked, and unclipped her own seatbelt. Flicking the button to unlock the doors, she tightened her coat. "Come on, let's go see." She made sure to turn on the emergency blinkers, on the off chance that another car came barreling down the road, she didn't want to risk getting rear-ended.

Together the two of them stepped out of the car into the blistering cold wind that had sprung up, half-blinding them with sharp stinging clumps of snow. Ron walked around to the front of the car, inspecting the hood, and found a sizable dent just above the grill. Whatever Kim had hit, hadn't been a small animal.

While her boyfriend checked the car, Kim marched out into the snowy road, following along the deep skid marks to where they curved sharply from the whitened asphalt. There was no sign of whatever it was she'd struck no blood, no tracks. Nothing. Of course, it'd could've been due to the poor visibility, or already been covered over by the falling snow, but surely there should be, something. "Ron! Help me out here, I can't find anything. I wanna check the ditch on the other side of the road," she cupped her hands to shout out against the sound of the wind.

There was no response, so she tried again, yelling louder toward the faint yellow-orange blinking she could just make out in the distance. The words seemed to be sucked away just as they left her chilled lips. Frustrated, Kim started to tromp back across the road toward her car, feet crunching heavily in the deepening snow.

Almost immediately, she could tell something was wrong, when the hazard lights didn't seem to be getting any closer. Narrowing her eyes, the redhead began picking up the pace, until she was almost running. But, the lights remained tantalizingly out of reach. "What the hell is going on!" Kim pushed herself harder, until her foot caught beneath the snow, and she was sent sprawling face first to the ground.

"Gh, whph," the redhead spit out a mouthful of snow, looking back to see what she'd tripped on in the middle of an empty road. "R-ron!" She screamed out, rolling over onto her back and scrabbling backward away from the thing half-buried in the snowy drift.

"KP, what's wrong, did you find it," the familiar voice came from just behind her. Kim looked up, relieved to see Ron's freckled face and unmistakable ears.

"Where were you, I was yelling for you to come and help me," She accepted his hand up.

Ron just gave her a stare, "Uh, with the car, where you left me. I didn't hear you calling, but I watched you walk over here and then trip when you turned around."

"Ron, I found what I hit, it's," she pointed back toward where she'd tripped over the body in the middle of the road. "I-I think I killed her."

The blond peered around to where his girlfriend was pointing. All he saw were their tire tracks cutting sharply to the right. "There's nothing there, Kim. I know we hit something, 'cuz there's a major dent on the hood, but it was probably a small deer or a big ass raccoon. Whatever we hit, it probably crawled off in the field to die."

"But, her body's right," Kim swung back around, "there? I-I saw it, she was naked, lying in the snow."

"Come on Kim, let's just get home. There's nothing here. I'm hungry, you probably are too, we're both tired. It's been a pretty crappy day for the both of us. We'll go home, eat some Nacos and watch Christmas Vacation again. In the morning, we can call the insurance company and get this sorted out."

"I know what I saw Ron," Kim jerked away from his arms for a moment, and then drooped her shoulders. "She was dead…I killed her," eyes widening, she looked up as warm arms wrapped around her.

"It's okay; let's get you back to the car. I'll drive this time."

"It's not my fault…It's not. She just jumped out of the dark, I couldn't do anything."

"KP, Kim…there's nobody here. You didn't kill anyone. It was a trick of the snow and the light from the car. Let's go home." Even saying that, Ron couldn't help but take one last look back at the spot Kim was so fixated on. Still empty. He heaved a quiet sigh, resisting the impulse to scratch at the side of his head. Yeah, he might have to get Kim's mom to take a look at it, just in case he needed stitches.

The drive back was uncomfortably quiet, with Kim refusing to lift her eyes from the blue glow of the stereo display that showed a dolphin forever splashing through an endless ocean.


	2. Chapter 2

Kim Possible belongs to Disney. This is a work for fun, not profit. A Fan fiction by Six-string Samurai.

**Brush with Life**

"_It was terrible, those eyes…Y-you can't! You can't make me go back in there! Don't leave me alone!"_

As Ron had promised, once they'd gotten back to the apartment, they'd eaten, and spent the rest of the night just trying to enjoy each other's company. Kim had finally settled down, letting the antics of the Griswold family take her mind off of the car accident. Eventually, Ron dozed off during the sled scene and Kim rested against him, pulling the blanket they'd been sharing up to her chin. She was warm, and comfortable, and before the end credits roll, she'd joined her boyfriend in the land of nod.

An indeterminate time later, a soft steady sound repeated, carrying on for a good minute or two, until the redhead drifted back to consciousness. Kim glanced around the living room bleary eyed, trying to figure out what had woken her. On the Television, the movie had returned to the main menu, and the little animation was playing on a loop, but that wasn't the sound she'd that had bothered her. Sitting up a bit, the redhead waited, hearing nothing over the sound of the DVD's music. Digging for the remote, she shuttled the volume down, straining her ears. But, whatever it was, had since stopped. From outside maybe, she wondered, eyeing the shut blinds.

It was easy enough to see the faint glare of the streetlamp poking through the slots in the wooden blinds, since they'd turned off all the lights to watch the movie. The bright lamps lining the street where mostly the reason she'd put up the blinds in the first place. Waiting, she convinced herself that it was likely a passing car that had woken her. She knew it had happened often enough, over the last few months that they'd been living here, then a longer sound, almost like something was dragging against the rug. It was coming from the hallway.

Sliding back down, Kim wracked her brain, desperately trying to think of what it could be, and her only consolation was the fact that the dragging was receding and not getting closer. Nudging the blond with a sharp elbow, Kim attempted to prod him awake. Under normal circumstances, she would have gotten up to go check herself, but the memory of a rail thin, cracked and bleeding arm reaching out of the snow to snag her ankle was too fresh in her mind, no matter that Ron hadn't seen it, convinced she'd been imagining things. "Wake up, Ron. There's something wrong."

The only response she got was a murmured, "Go back to sleep, Ron-man's too tired to play."

Kim elbowed him in the side a little harder, but he just rolled over and jerked most of the blanket away, tossing Kim off the couch in the process. It was just enough to rile her up, the faint spark of anger overriding her irrational fear. "Fine, don't think I'll forget this," the redhead huffed, picking herself up.

By the soft light from the TV set, Kim navigated around the small coffee table, and across the carpet to the entrance of the hall that lead down to the three rooms at the end. Still clutching the DVD remote in one hand, she brandished it like a weapon close to her chest, reaching around the corner to fumble for the light switch. For a brief moment, the hall was covered in 60 watts of track lighting, and then just as quickly the lights snapped and fizzled out. "You've got to be kidding me," Kim held her makeshift weapon in a death grip, seriously contemplating just dragging Ron off the couch with her, sleeping or not.

Setting her jaw, she made up her mind to just get it over with, if she could take down megalomaniacal villains bent on world conquest, she could deal with a prowler in her home. After all, wasn't this her world on a smaller scale? What kind of hero was scared of a little darkness anyway?

Kim made it a few steps into the corridor when the lights recessed into the sides of the ceiling hissed and cracked to life, blinking then going back out, killing her night vision in the process, before winking back out. The process repeated a couple more times, resulting in a bizarre strobe effect that started to give her a headache. Between the spurts of light and dark, she didn't see anything out of place, or any indication that she wasn't alone.

Despite the lights, which had to be a problem with the fuse, she was already beginning to feel a little foolish, just her mind playing tricks on her like Ron had already said. She looked down at the remote, "This is stupid," reaching back she flicked the light switch, effectively killing the flickering lights. The last thing she needed was the bulbs to blow, or start an electrical fire.

Down the hall, one of the doors shut with a sharp click, instantly drawing Kim's attention.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she tiptoed down the hallway, silently gliding across the carpet until she reached the last door on the left, the only one that was all the way closed; her own bedroom door. Frowning and narrowing her brow, the teen hero closed her fingers around the knob, raising her other hand up to defend herself should the need arise. Kim eased the door open a little, taking a peek through the small crack.

From her vantage point, she could just make out the foot of the bed, and the edge of her vanity. Ron must have left the blinds up again, she realized, because the room was all awash in faint light that streamed in through the window on the far side across from their dresser. Outside the snow had long ceased, and the clouds had thinned, allowing slivers of moonlight to sneak through.

She stood there, silent and barely breathing, peering through the door for almost half a minute, while she waited for something, anything, out of the ordinary to catch her attention. Kim just started to feel herself calming down when a section of the sheets shifted, pulling up away from the foot of the bed. Biting the inside of her cheek to stop from gasping, Kim widened the door just a few hairs, until she could get a better view.

With the light from the window slicing across the door, Kim's lone visible eye was illuminated as it widened for a split second, focusing on the large lump in the center of the bed, covered by a mass of sheets and blankets. Gone was the thought of a hidden attacker, or an ambush from behind the door. The whole of her sight narrowed to the occupant of the bed shifting around sporadically beneath the linen.

_Who the hell broke into someone's home and snuck into their bed?_ Kim was incensed at the sheer audacity, and momentarily forgot herself, pushing past the door and into the room. Her only thought was that this had better be some kind of joke, a stupid prank of Ron's, or there was going to be an ass kicking like none other. If it was Ron's idea, two ass kickings would be in order.

Grabbing the edge of the covers, Kim yanked hard, tearing the comforter off the bed along with several sheets. The accusations and threats she had prepared died an ugly death on her tongue as her mouth suddenly dried up, her breath catching in her throat. "Geh," she choked out, stumbling back with numb fingers as gorge threatened to rise up past her throat. The remote fell from her hand as she backed into the wall in an effort to put space between her and the bed.

More than anything it was the smell…the scent of death and baked flesh, that rose cloying from the blackened and twisted thing. Flecks of black powdered and streaked the bed all around what she suddenly realized had to be a body. Barely recognizable as such, it twitched, and a thin stick that might once have been an arm reached out toward the redhead, clawing the air in lethargic swipes. From its head, pits darker than black, where eyes once had been, seemed to meet Kim's horrified stare.

For a fleeting moment, Kim thought it might vanish, a phantasm of some forgotten nightmare, but it didn't. It rolled onto its side, painfully slow, and pulled itself across the intervening space with that trembling arm, dragging inch by inch over the king-sized mattress closer to her. Those twin black holes, never wandering or wavering, locked onto her with a horrible intensity that squeezed at Kim's chest, crushing the breath in her lungs.

Kim knew with a terrible certainty that it was going to try and touch her with that hand, and if it did, she was going to start screaming.

"_Kimmie_," a rasping whisper came from just over her shoulder, an old name, cold and forgotten, one that burned at the edges of Kim's mind. It was a long gone flicker of a memory, and a jagged thing that tore instead of tickling. Softer, it came again, all but daring her to turn away from the thing on the bed. "_Kimmie_."

"_Pumpkin_…," the third call could not be denied, and the redhead tore her eyes away from the bed, turning in what felt like slow motion, to look toward the voice.

Maybe that was her mistake.

The moment her eyes broke contact, thin fingers snagged the front of her shirt, tightening in an iron grip.


End file.
